


Precious Jewellry

by Goombella123



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Boys Kissing, Earrings, Excessive Drinking, Fluff and Angst, M/M, if u get squeamish at needles i suggest you proceed with caution. not that it's bad tho, on selena's part at least. odin and laslow are fine, they say fuck a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goombella123/pseuds/Goombella123
Summary: These days might be the last they have together, now that they're in Nohr. Any keepsakes are precious, and memories? Even more so.





	

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhHH hidden truths spoilers sort of but u should have guessed by the tags what those are already

 

The camp was quiet.

 

A fire smoldering in the center, and few sounds save for whatever wolves were native to the outskirts of Nohr. Selena was sitting on her bedroll, just a few paces from Laslow- and he quietly glanced over at her. She was more agitated than usual lately, with her crimson red hair beginning to fray at its ends.

 

Laslow could say that he sympathized with her.

 

Earlier that day had forced them to pool their coin. A child had stolen their purses, and though Odin had run after the bastard, cursing, he’d returned empty-handed. What they were left with was a small handful of gold each, and a thoroughly pissed- off Selena. Odin, his cloak fluttering guiltily, was tasked with searching for a cheap bed to stay before the morrow arrived. He’d left swiftly before he had the chance to witness Selena’s temper being taken out on his tent.

 

\---

 

The tavern they were lead to later that evening wasn’t bad- for something that would have cost less than a loaf of bread. It was cheap enough to afford the three a round of drinks with what they had remaining, at least, and Selena’s irritability was quickly thrown out with her common sense into a tankard of alcohol. Odin had the foolhardiness to join her escapades amongst the rough noise of the tavern- his booming voice carrying as he narrated a sorrowful tale to an army of drunks. A shot taken every time he used the word ‘darkness’ or mentioned something ‘legendary’.

Laslow had smiled to himself- they seemed to be taking him well.

The mercenary had initially passed up the opportunity for a hangover. There weren’t any women present besides the barman’s wife (a kind-looking lady despite her worn skin, but _so_ not his age preference). He’d first retired to the inn’s room, though he had little to do, and sleep had forsaken him. It was too loud downstairs, and too loud in his head- so he re-joined the merriment after an hour or two.

 

He’d found Selena first- no surprises there. The vibrant hue of her pigtails was incredibly difficult to miss in a crowd, though you couldn’t exactly call this warm gathering of Nohrian street dwellers a welcoming party.

Just moments ago, she was jeering and laughing with Odin, pissed over too many tankards of ale. Selena was the kind of drunk who blacked out within a half hour, though- right now, she was slumped over a bar table with a flat pint resting beside her, asleep, and Laslow could tell she was snoring over the muffled din of the tavern.

Her eyes were crusty and her cheeks streak-stained.

 _She’s been crying,_ Laslow thought, and though he felt a sharp pang of empathy in his chest, for her tears, she looked contented. Laslow guessed that Odin had managed to coax the stress out of her in her drunken, loose state, and he smiled.

He’d have to thank him later for that. Selena deserved to have someone to talk to who wouldn’t make things worse, the way Laslow did.

 

He left her to sleep.

 

Conversely, Odin was close by in the tavern making merry- his shouts were increasingly less coherent in his excitement. He wasn’t drunk- Laslow could tell- but anyone who didn’t know him could easily mistake him for it. The men around him roared suddenly, and Odin protested- _I said blackness, not darkness! That one doesn’t count!_ – as they all threw back a round each. Laslow couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Odin noticed him giggling, and he posed- a new stance, apparently, that involved him blushing like a madman- as he called out his comrade. “Ah- Laslow of Azure Skies! My archrival! And, uh, occasional partner. In crime!” he yelled jauntily.

 

The small gathering turned to Laslow, and they cheered.

 

Everyone was staring at him.

 

Laslow could almost feel his soul melting into the floor as he froze. Odin stiffened slightly, and he looked at Laslow with regret.

 

“Oh- p-pardon him, my comrades.” He spoke. “We are people of the night, you see,  and my great archrival here is a being of the sun and sky. He is not used to the attentions of those who dwell in the shadows”

 

Odin paused in his monologue to wink at Laslow. He hung his head, still, humiliated to high heaven. Some guy up the back whistled suggestively, and Laslow cursed.

 

Odin simply laughed, theatrical and loud. “He is a fitting nemesis for I, a hero of the dark and- Oh. OH. _DAMN IT!”_ he yelled, realizing his mistake. Laslow looked up.

 

The gathering howled with laughter as they threw back another round of shots. Now it was Odin’s turn to hide his face in shame. Laslow chuckled.

 

 _That’s karma for calling me out, you bastard,_ he thought smugly.

 

He eyed Selena’s pint- no one had touched it, it was still half full- and with a deft movement, he grabbed it and swigged the whole thing. Those few bar-goers whose attention stayed on him were awed, and one patron (the same guy who whistled?) applauded quietly.

 

Odin was almost offended.

 

“E tu, Laslow?” he gasped, clasping his cheeks in a melodramatic fashion.

 

Laslow grinned heartily.

 

“You can’t have all the fun, old friend.” He responded.

 

Odin grinned from under his reddened cheeks.

 

\----

 

 

“Hoy there- woah. Woahhhh. What happened to her?” Odin stumbled, fumbling against the doorframe.

 

He’d been downstairs for a longer while than Laslow had- he’d left halfway through another monologue, in no way begrudgingly so. He would have given himself alcohol poisoning long ago if he took a shot for every time Odin made up some nonsense. Though he didn’t particularly mind listening to him.

Shots weren’t as fun with poverty-worn Nohrians, he found. Besides, once Laslow had made the mistake of revealing himself as a dancer, they had insisted on a performance, and-

 

The mercenary cringed.

 

He kept his gift a secret all these years for a good reason, and every time he felt to open up to someone about it just proved those reasons were right.That one man who seemed particularly fond of teasing him, the one who whistled at him, was also a hands-y kind of person. Very, very hands-y. And he didn’t seem to get that he wasn’t _that_ sort of dancer, no matter how much Laslow said so.

 

He dearly hoped he’d never have to see him again.

 

Odin was still standing in the doorway- addressing down to the single bed on side of the room, currently, and he looked mildly concerned.

 

“…Is Selena ok?” he asked, a frown creasing his brow.

 

_Oh._ _Right._

Once Laslow had taken his leave, he’d carried the girl upstairs and left her on the mattress. Sleeping on a bar stool was awful for your back. That was speaking from experience.

 

“Shes fine.” Laslow mumbled, and Odin looked relieved.

 

He walked quietly and carefully, towards Laslow. He’d changed into his dark mage outfit again at some point during his performance, and his stupid, feathery cape was flowing behind him- though he thankfully removed it and hung it on a chair before crouching down beside him. The V of his exposed chest caught his eye- hell, it demanded attention at all times, to where it tapered off just at the man’s abdomen- and Laslow groaned.

 

“…Why must you wear that ridiculous outfit now?” He panned.

 

Odin scoffed.

 

“This _ridiculous outfit_ a mage uniform, and I _am_ , for your information, a mage. You’re just gonna have to get used to it.” He replied, a smirk crawling up his face.

 

Laslow snorted.

 

“…You’re awfully peppy about this whole business, you know.” He said.

 

“I guess so.” Odin replied cheerily.

 

He plonked his ass next to Laslow’s arm, and he grunted upon impact with the hard wooden floor. He stretched his legs out slowly, like a cat, and his muscles shifted in release.

 

Laslow flinched a little when the blonde decided it would be a good idea to join him in his recline- his muscular back lowering softly onto the floor beside him, and he turned to face Laslow with an arm propping up his cheek. The heat on Odin’s skin forced Laslow to turn away- he couldn’t tell if the smirk he bore was mocking or genuine, and he was forced to ignore the tiny laugh that escaped from Odin’s lips when he was no longer looking.

 

It lightened his heart to hear it.

 

If he was trying to tease him, it was working spectacularly.

 

“You know that we’re taking on completely new lives here, Odin." Laslow said seriously. "This i not something I would expect you to be _happy_ about.”

 

“Ah, well. A few good few tankards of ale will do that to you.” Odin murmured in response, and Laslow shuddered. His breath was hot in his ear, and it tickled in all kinds of ways.

 

“Liar. You were too busy preaching to your little fanclub to get any alcohol in you.” 

 

Odin jeered. “Then perhaps I’m drunk on enthusiasm.” He said.

 

Laslow creased his brow. He turned to lay on his other side- which was a mistake, because now he was being forced to stare directly into Odin’s unguarded smile. There was a sadness, or a longing, behind it all of a sudden, and Laslow faltered for it.

 

He took a long, drawn-out breath.

 

“Odin, listen to me.” He began. The tension in the air between them was almost palpable.

 

“We… may not see each other again after tonight. You’re not scared of that, at all?” he said.

 

Odin wilted slightly, and he stammered.

 

“W-well… yeah, I am. It’s just that…”

 

He scratched his cheek nervously, and hesitated.

 

“All of us have been… on edge. Selena especially, since yesterday’s, uh, thievery.”

 

Laslow frowned softly. “Well, can you blame her?”

 

Odin hummed. “No. It’s understandable.” He said. “It just doesn’t make for the most pleasant… last memory, is all. So I’ve been trying my best to be cheery about this.” He admitted quietly. Odin’s voice dropping to a whisper, in uncharacteristic timidness.

 

“Though I’m probably not helping at all."

 

Laslow smiled. He reached a hand out for his in comfort.

 

“That sounds like something _I’d_ normally be doing.” He remarked.

 

Odin paused for a moment to regard their linked hands, and he breathed. “True. Think of me like your back-up performer, then. Filling in when you can’t”

 

Laslow sighed wistfully.

 

“…Thanks, Odin.” He said.

 

He squeezed the other man’s hand, and was gifted with a small smile.

 

They both truly meant it.

 

 

\---

 

 

Laslow and Odin were forced to relocate, eventually, what with neither of them wishing to disturb Selena for bed space. There was no one else staying at the tavern but them. It was late- very late- with the sky moonless and pitch-dark, and every room was empty. They took to a shared room instead of going separate, and Laslow was relieved when Odin didn’t question his insistence. The mage sent him a smile full of patience and understanding, and Laslow’s heart swelled with gratitude.

 

The thought of spending the night alone in an unfamiliar place filled the mercenary with old anxieties- fears that had never left him. A fear of the dark, and a fear of being left alone- it lay in the space between the two, with Odin half-sitting in a chair across the tiny room, and Laslow leaning against the side of the bed.

 

The little tavern’s quarters would be pure black were it not for the few candles they had lit- and for the lone streetlamp outside, with its ethereal glow in the pitch darkness. It threw its light off the cold brick walls, and cast itself across Odin’s face in a way that it highlighted his best features- his strong jaw and his enthusiastic eyes, the tiny freckles on his nose and the way it crinkled when he squinted. Laslow peered at him, eyes heavy. The dark mage in the corner with a worldly yet youthful, tired and relaxed face.

 

…And a bad haircut.

 

Something about it was almost picturesque in its peacefulness. Though, really, it was probably just Odin, when Laslow thought about it. The man’s presence, whether he liked it or not, always put him at ease.

 

He sighed.

 

Suddenly, Laslow noticed a glimmer out of the corner of his eye, and he followed it to Odin’s hands.

 

The mage was curling something in his palm carefully- something shiny and small, and clearly precious to him, evident in the way he handled it. Through the dim lamplight and candles, Laslow watched in wonder of the way he made it dance- the shine of whatever he had reflecting onto the callouses of a former swordsman.

 

He wondered if anyone else would notice them- Odin’s knuckles, worn and hardened like his Uncle Chrom’s- the irony of always looking up to him. The mages that Laslow had known had always had soft, porcelain skin. He can recall his ‘Aunt’ Maribelle the clearest- she had magic running through her veins, and electricity crackling under her skin. Laslow had been zapped by a kiss on the cheek, once, and it never ceased to fascinate him to this day, when he thought of it.

 

Perhaps, Odin would have inherited a spark his own mother, Lissa. Maybe his hands were those of a mage-soft, despite his brick-ish knuckles, and his skin would crackle hot wherever your lips met it- Odin’s magic flowing through his veins where he dared to touch him.

 

Laslow heard Odin curse quietly, a small _clink_ sound as the object he was playing with fell to the floor. He rose to retrieve it at the same time as Odin- the blonde protesting when he beat him to it.

 

“H-hey! What are you-!” 

 

Laslow shushed him, and Odin groaned in annoyance. The distance between them dissolved in the moment.

 

“Hang on, I’m just taking a look.” He muttered.

 

Odin remained displeased. He grumbled childishly as Laslow turned the _thing_ over in his hands. Golden and delicate, and undeniably beautiful in its daintiness. Something he’d imagine way very expensive.

 

...Why was Odin carrying this?

 

He turned it- them, actually, a pair of earrings- over and over again in the palm of his hand. Odin became increasingly antsy for the longer he looked.

 

Then, he saw it. The mark carved in the center, and Laslow took a deep breath.

 

“-Owain-“  he began.

 

The blonde winced at the name, and grabbed his forearm. Like his missing mark burned him.

“…I know that weren’t not supposed to carry valuable stuff like this, but I-I wanted to keep something to remember mom by.” He rambled. “I don’t… I don’t wanna forget her.”

 

His voice quiet in the closeness.

 

When Laslow didn’t answer, he tried to continue “I just-“

 

Laslow shushed him. Bemused, but understanding, and still somewhat in awe of what he was holding.

 

“-Odin. I get it, it’s fine. No need to get upset, now, love.” He said.

 

The mage looked slightly offended (confused?) for a moment- then Laslow tapped his belt deliberately, and Odin automatically understood.

 

Olivia’s belt. Not as lovely as Odin’s keepsake, but just as valuable in Laslow’s eyes.

 

The mercenary continued to examine the earrings- his gaze going back and forth between them and their owner. The way Odin’s eyes glazed over when he looked at them made Laslow’s heart ache in a strange way. Odin was fond and protective of them, and there was a hint of bittersweet nostalgia behind it all that resonated deep with Laslow, like he knew it from somewhere before.

 

That look felt so, so, familiar, like it had always belonged on Odin’s face. Though Laslow knew there was a way to sum up what he was seeing, he could not for the _life_ of him find the word to define it.

 

Laslow murmured to himself instead.

 

“…I don’t blame you for keeping these.” he mused. “For a simple stud, they are exceedingly beautiful. The craftsmanship is stunning.”

 

Ornate, silver and shining- Laslow supposed they were fitting for an Exalted Princess like Lissa, and he swiped his thumb over them gently.

 

“You’ve been hiding these the whole time…” 

 

Odin shuffled nervously.

 

“How have they not been stolen yet?”

 

Odin coughed awkwardly, and looked away. He maintained his tight grip on his arm.

 

“…Truth be told,” He croaked, warily, “they already have been. Stolen, that is.”

 

“...By whom?”

 

“By that kid who swiped our money.” Odin said.

 

Laslow squinted in confusion, and Odin held his breath.

 

“…I, uh, kept mom’s earrings in my purse.” He explained. “So when I tracked down that kid, I struck her a bargain.”

 

Laslow cocked an eyebrow.

 

“I let her keep what she took, in... in exchange for these back.” He admitted.

 

Laslow froze, though he didn’t say anything in return. Odin’s face fell, from nervous to ashamed and guilty, until he eventually looked away.

 

 “…You’re mad at me.” He said quietly, breaking the tension.

 

A heartbeat, and Laslow managed to sigh.

 

 “No. Not… not really.” he replied, turning the studs over in his hands.

 

Odin screwed up his nose, and he scoffed.

 

“What’s the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he said, indignant.

 

Laslow frowned, and went on the defensive.

 

“It means that I’m mad at you for not telling Selena first. If you’d just _explained_ that losing the money was your fault, she mightn’t have been so hard on herself- and I wouldn’t have had to deal with her being all mopey and... mad.”

 

Odin turned, and frowned back.

 

“What, so it’s about _you_ now?” he bit. “Don’t act like she was the _only_ one being edgy this week.”

 

“Edgy?!" Laslow cries. "Hah! That’s really _something_ coming from you, _Odin Dark_ ” the mecenary sneered.

 

Odin looked incredulous.

 

“Thats- That’s going off topic!” he yelled.

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah, it is! Just shut it, Inig-“

 

Odin stopped.

 

Laslow was pretty sure that his heart did, too. For a few painful moments, the room was completely silent. Then the mage’s face began to lose it’s tension, and the shame came creeping back. Laslow’s chest felt hollow.

 

He realized that Odin was right. Selena wasn’t the only one who was messed up by this whole thing- he of all people should have thought of it sooner. He should have paid more attention to Odin’s feelings, too. Cared a bit more about him and how he felt.

 

The blonde ran a hand down his face in exasperation.

 

Laslow really wanted to apologize.

 

“….Can I just get my earrings back?” Odin muttered. All fight in his voice was gone.

 

Laslow, though momentarily stunned, managed to stutter.

 

“Sure” he said, and he fumbled his jewellery back to him.

 

 

\---

 

 

“Why did you keep something so precious in your purse?”

 

A half-hour later, and Laslow couldn’t stand the tension. While the man had stayed closer to him than before, choosing to leave his dingy little corner, he had certainly established his territory on the bed that they both sat half-asleep on. Laslow wasn’t sure if Odin was mad at him, or if he was mad at Odin, but he was tired, anxious and bored, and rest was still alluding him behind his closed eyes.

 

 _The winning Laslow combo,_ he thought, half-jokingly.

 

Odin seemed somewhat peeved that Laslow had broken the silence- he titled his head forward, and re-adjusted his slouching position to look at him a little better.

 

“What? The earrings?” he replied. Laslow nodded, with a small noise of affirmation to go with it.

 

“Surely you could have just worn them and saved yourself the trouble?” Laslow suggested.

 

Odin looked at him, baffled for a moment. Then he snorted, an easy chuckle escaping his lips.

 

“You’re forgetting, my friend, that my skin remain virgin.” He replied, using his hand’s flair to punctuate his bare ears. “No needle has pierced my sacred flesh, no gem has entered my sensitive ear-holes.”

 

In a moment of weakness, Laslow snorted. He felt a jab to his side where Odin elbowed him in the ribs, and he coughed in his attempts to keep quiet. He looked at him accusingly.

 

Odin was blushing. His face incredulous, and it made Laslow laugh even harder.

 

 “-Shut up! It just means that they’re not pierced, you gutter-brain.” The mage muttered. He turned up his nose, and pouted childishly. “Unless you want to put them in for me, go ahead! Laugh all you like.”

 

Odin folded his arms with surety, but with a moment, he lowered them nervously as he met Laslow’s gaze.

 

The man was grinning devilishly.

 

 “-No.” Odin said, deadpan.

 

Laslow whined. “I didn’t even say anything!”

 

“You had this look on your- you know what? Never mind.” Odin huffed. “Point is, you are _not_ piercing my ears!”

 

Laslow giggled nervously.

 

“I-I’m just kidding, old friend” He joked dismissively. “Though, if you do need my services-“ Here, he dared an ingenuine-looking wink “-my hands have handled virgin ears more than once.”

 

“…Ok. Just, don’t. You sound like me.” Odin said, and his frown lessened a little as he sighed. “What kind of half-drunk floozy would trust someone like _you_ to stick a needle in their ear, anyway?”

 

Laslow pulled a face at the blonde, screwing up his nose.

 

“Well it’s better than the way my _mother_ pierced my ear.” He said. “A clean dagger isn’t a safer a dagger. Never use a sword to pierce your ten-year-old’s ear, by the way.” Laslow added.

 

He looked at Odin sternly, and the mage bursts into a fit of laughs.

 

“Oh- oh gods, tell me the full story later.” He grinned, sound bubbling from his lips joyously. They were quiet for a while after that, as Odin twirled those earrings in his fingers absentmindedly, like he was before. Laslow watched him, feigning boredom and annoyance at the fresh silence.

 

Though in truth, he didn’t mind.

 

Odin didn’t seem to mind, either, and it was kind of nice. As the hours grew late, his want for conversation waned- so he appreciated it. Eyes heavy and voice crackling hoarse, Laslow rested his head on Odin’s shoulder without thinking. The mage made little protest to that, too.

 

Laslow closed his eyes, and smiled.

 

Odin did speak after a little while, though.

 

“You didn’t really seem like you were joking before.” He said. “About putting these in for me.”

 

Laslow opened his eyes to look up at him.

 

“That’s because I _wasn’t_ joking, you fool.” He muttered, headbutting Odin’s shoulder bemusedly.

 

Odin didn’t reply, at first. Laslow looked up- he realized it was because the blonde was gazing at him with stupid, hopeful eyes.

 

Laslow’s eyes lit up, too, and he grinned devilishly at Odin’s face.

 

“So you ARE wanting my services, then?” Laslow beamed charismatically, to which Odin groaned quietly.

 

“Stop putting it like that, you fiend! You’re doing bad things to my health.”

 

“Prepare your virgin ears-“

 

“STOP IT.”

 

At that, Laslow could only beam harder.

 

 

\----

 

 

Laslow had no fucking clue what he was doing.

 

Well, partially untrue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but despite his prior experience this was incredibly difficult. His palms were sweaty and shaking, though he hid it well, and the needle- stolen from Selena’s sowing bag and dipped in alcohol- was too small for him to hold comfortably in his heated hands. It was somewhere in the avenue of three or four AM now, and Laslow was running on only two afternoon naps when both he and Odin should have been asleep hours ago, like Selena (and he could say that he envied her a little right now).

 

 Laslow did manage to keep his grip eventually, and his movements evened.

 

He poked at Odin’s lobe experimentally with the needle tip, and the mage hissed.

 

“I thought this was supposed to be painless.” Odin muttered.

 

“It’s as painless as piercing a hole through your skin can get. Trust me, old friend.” Laslow stoically replied.  It would have been better had he ice to numb the mage’s skin (or cool it down, at least- his ears were flushed red and heated)- but Laslow had barely escaped with his pint of ale and a towel, and he wasn’t about to go back downstairs and steal any more.

 

The mercenary could only sigh. He steeled himself, and spoke semi-confidently. “If you can let me get this through in one, solid movement, it won’t hurt as much.” He said.

 

It was hardly reassuring, and Odin’s eye’s widened in fear.

 

“W-what, just shove it in? That’s… I’m not ready for that.“

 

Laslow snorted. Odin was on fire with innuendo today. He prayed for anyone hearing it out of context.

 

He continued anyway.

 

“It’ll be over quicker like this.” He said sternly, and despite his amusement, his voice was even and smooth. “I’d rather not watch you sweat like this for another half hour, anyway.”

 

Odin spun around, his eyebrows furrowed tight “Hey- you’re the one who wanted to do this.” He said.

 

“And you’re the one who agreed.” Laslow replied cockily.

 

Odin made no attempt at a rebuttal to this, and Laslow frowned.

 

The mage looked… hesitant, grabbing at his forearm again with a tense inhalation. Laslow sighed, and he crouched in front of Odin. He was staring directly into his face- some sort of attempt to get him to relax, he supposed, though he might have been making it worse. He peered right into the mage’s eyes, and Odin peered back, the heat permeating his ears radiating off the skin of his cheeks as well, and the very faint freckles covering his nose. Laslow took a deep breath.

 

 “…I’ll give you a countdown, ok?” he said eventually. He hoped it was reassuring enough.

 

Odin nodded tersely.

 

“…Ok.”

 

Laslow stood then, his and Odin’s resolve renewed. He gripped the needle gently, and quietly brought a towel to the back of Odin’s ear. His hands didn’t shake as he lined it up with the cartilage, and he was proud of himself for it.

 

“…Ready?” he said.

 

“Ready.” Odin replied.

 

“One… two... three…”

 

Odin screeched, biting the back of his hand.

 

“Fucking hell Odin are you ok _-“_

Odin was pale as Laslow began to panic.

 

“You didn’t tell me it would burn!” The mage hissed.

 

“Sorry, sorry- oh gods, I’m sorry-“

 

“Standing there panicking isn’t helping me!” Odin yelled, as Laslow scrambled to wipe him up.

 

“You _screaming_ at me isn’t helping either!” Laslow deflected, and the mage growled in mild pain.

 

Odin kept making grabby motions at his ear. Laslow knew it wasn’t painful, but it probably felt like he’d been blasted with Elfire- burning up through the skin and through his entire ear. Odin wasn’t bleeding- Naga help him, he’d seen too much blood in his life- but Laslow was pretty damn sure that wasn’t supposed to be so painful, either way.

 

Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?

 

Oh. right.

 

He did.

 

“It’s ok- uh- oh gods, no it’s not, is it? At least you’re not bleeding?” Laslow stammered. He was doing his best. “Do you still feel like your ear is on fire?” he asked hesitantly.

 

Words couldn’t describe how much he was beginning to regret this.

 

“YES. YES IT DOES. THANK YOU VERY MUCH, LASLOW.” 

 

“W-what can I do, what should I do to help?” Laslow bounced on his feet.

 

Odin bit down on his hand, grunting. “ANYTHING, DO ANYTHING, Laslow, I don’t CARE!” he yelled.

 

Laslow hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, before a spark popped into his head. It was an awful idea, but he had nothing left to lose, so he went for it.

 

The sudden feeling of Laslow’s mouth on his earlobe, and Odin was sent reeling.

  
Laslow’s teeth bit into it a little bit, consciously or not, and it was safe to say he was a little freaked out. The mercenary sucking on his fresh piercing to attempt to stop the burning, it crossed his mind that this was honestly the weirdest thing he had ever done.

 

A little noise escaped Odin’s throat, undignified when he felt Laslow’s tongue brush up against the wound. Breath caught in his chest, Odin’s brain almost to foggy to register it even happening.

 

“L-Laslow-“ He stuttered, as the man broke away. “What in Naga’s _fucking_ name-“

 

Odin’s flush had spread to the rest of his face. A quick glance saw it creeping down his neck, too, without receding.

 

“- was that?”

 

Laslow took a deep breath.

 

“Did it help?”

 

“…W-what?”  Odin stammered.

 

“Did it help with your ear burning?” Laslow said. He kept his face as blank as he could, though looking at Odin’s flush… he found little success.

 

“I- I guess? It, uh, was distracting, at least.” He said, failing at sounding casual.

 

Distracting.

 

“Odin.” Laslow said.

 

The man stood to attention. “Yeah?”

 

Laslow bit his lip.

 

“…Can I do something like that again?” he asked. His heart going at a million miles per hour in his chest.

 

“Wha- Now?” Odin asked.

 

Laslow nodded.

 

“I still need to do the other ear. I figured-“

 

Odin interrupted him.

 

“Y-yeah. Ok. Just go… go ahead, Laslow.” he said, voice breathless and shaking.

 

Once again, the tension grew between them as Laslow drew close. Not the tension of the needle, or of an argument left unsolved, but something- something different. Something that pooled in Laslow’s stomach, deep when Odin talked with a hushed, husky voice. When he couldn’t control the way he breathed, hitching with his red face and fidgeting body underneath him.

 

Laslow dared to nip Odin’s ear once again- his mother’s earring metallic in his mouth- before lining up their mouths tentatively.

 

They breathed.

 

He swallowed Odin’s agonized groan as metal pierced through flesh once again, their lips melting together. The pain turning into a moan for the mage as Laslow’s tongue ran across his teeth- he had no objections. The burning in his ears could be ignored in favour of Laslow’s mouth.

 

The mercenary smiled into the kiss, and as he pulled away, he couldn’t help but laugh, silently.

 

“I always wanted to do that.” He whispered breathlessly.

 

At a loss for words. Laslow was drowning in Odin.

 

The mage slid his hand up to Laslow’s face, caressing his cheek. His thumb gliding over his lips with a tenderness that made Laslow keen for him. Odin drank the sight, his heart fuller than it had been for months.

 

“I always hoped you would.” He replied.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> OK NO JOKE I SAT ON THIS FOR LIKE... 5 MONTHS. I have 4 drafts of this that I did and I didn't like them at the time so I scrapped em. I'm glad I finished this tho lmao.
> 
> the working title was "some sort of earring kink who fucking knows" and its. accurate. I guess.
> 
> EDIT: I FORGOT TO MENTION that this is based off a hc my friend and i came up with months ago that it was laslow who pierced odin's ears, because he noticed that odin is wearing studs in his portrait sprite!


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